Huracán's players celebrate after beating San Lorenzo 1-0 but their title challenge has been overshadowed by the ongoing football violence in Argentina. Photograph: Daniel Luna/AP

Alejandro Wall of Crítica Digital compiled this list as a sidebar this week as the media reacted to the news that two people had died following Huracán's match against Arsenal.

"• Cristian Ponce, Boca, murdered on his doorstep in January. The crime has been linked to an internal dispute within the barra [gang].

• Daniel Guzmán, leader of the Olimpo gang, killed at dawn in February. The perpetrators are presumed to be members of another Olimpo gang.

• In April, Darío Iramaín, Sportivo Norte de Rafaela, was stabbed in the terraces while watching his team – another internal power struggle.

• Fernando Labriola, Excursionistas, shot in May. They say the barra was in dispute over the drug trade in the area."

Most of the papers do this now: the death toll is steady and shows no sign of diminishing. Each time, we dig out previous incidents because each time we face the undeniable fact that we are not dealing with isolated episodes – we are dealing with an endemic culture of violence.

The barras bravas – or tough gangs – are the organised groups that orchestrate the supporters, lead the chants, unfold the flags (or cloths as they prefer to call them) and as is widely known now also have a finger in every pie of stadium and club business: from the sale of choripán (chorizo sandwiches) and fizzy drinks to player transfers. It used to be that the barras organised fights with their counterparts from rival clubs – in recent years the most observable shift in behaviour is that the worst incidents of violence are perpetrated within the gangs.

According to Ernesto Schargrodsky, head of Licip – Laboratory of Research on Crime, Institutions and Policies – the restricted and highly policed access of the away fans at the grounds has contributed to this. The absence of the enemy gang generates two hypotheses: one is that there are people who have a dose of violence which used to be channelled into fighting the enemy – an amount of violence that needs to be "consumed". A change in the mechanisms of ticket sales leaves them with only each other to fight. Schargrodsky, however, favours another, more socioeconomic hypothesis, which sees a struggle over power and money at the core of the behaviour.

The dispute between the Zavaleta and the Jose C Paz factions (so named after the areas they live in) of the barra has been traced back to 2007 when, according to the journalist Gustavo Grabia from Olé, incidents first started. That time, however, the Zavaleta went away quietly.

Now, as the press celebrates Huracán's hour of glory (they play the final fixture of the season on 5 July needing only a draw to become champions) the Zavaletas have returned to claim their share of the choripán kiosk. Last Sunday they were kicked out of the terraces by Jose C Paz and proceeded to fire bullets at the home of "El Cone", the leader. His brother came out to face them and was shot dead.

El Cone then ordered revenge and we had a second death. "And so, to the end of history, murder shall breed murder …"

Schargrodsky cites the economic theory known as the curse of natural resources to illustrate the paradox of increased wealth in the absence of solid institutions. If a country with endemic corruption finds oil, say, civil war is more likely to follow. In Argentina the problem of corruption and violence is disproportionate. The economic crisis which hit the country in 2001 exacerbated what was an already increasing crime rate. The most affected are those less well off. The middle to higher classes are able to afford alternative security measures whereas the poor classes are more exposed to crime. It used to be the case that people didn't get attacked or robbed in their own areas – even in deprived neighbourhoods or slums. Now, however, people are attacked and robbed by those they know.

Homicide is also on the up, as is the widespread use of firearms. According to one study (by APP and University of San Andrés) between 1997 and 2005 about 20,000 murders with firearms were recorded in the province of Buenos Aires. This constituted 70% of all murders. In addition, the study found most of these murders were a consequence of personal conflicts as opposed to random crime. Terrace behaviour appears to reflect this: inter-barra conflict with guns.

Mónica Nizzardo is the president of Salvemos al Fútbol (Let's Save Football), which lobbies for the denunciation of violence and corruption in football. She was a member of the board of directors at third division club Atlanta where she was horrified to witness the barra's influence from the dressing room to the parking lot. Recently released from prison, one thug came with a demand.

The president said "we must help him". She lobbied to overrule. The barra then arrived at the club offices to trash the place. "I was scared," says Nizzardo, "and I wanted to press charges. But no one would come with me. One club director said 'I can't because they know my car'."

She found a committed ally in the former judge Mariano Bergés, who had been the only judge in the Argentinian judiciary to sentence club directors for their involvement in criminal activities and who highlighted the role of the police. The police would charge and claim for a higher number of men than were actually deployed at football matches.

"Football is not an island," Nizzardo says. "It offends me as a citizen to hear the government attempt to wash their hands of this problem by claiming it is not part of football. There is an impunity within football which is absurd."

Salvemos al Fútbol aims to denounce corruption and encourage civic responsibility among club members – the non-violent, fee-paying fans who actually own the clubs. The list of depressing cases coming to light is as long as it is shocking. "El Uruguayo" Richard, who spent 11 years in jail, recently named the policemen who distributed firearms and wiped the records clean for some barras.

This week a documentary by Pablo Tesoriere is being screened at the legislative chambers after it was decided it was of national interest. There are emergency meetings to prepare security for the remaining fixtures.

Of course this does not happen only in Argentina. Football-related violence exists everywhere where the passion for football exists. To a greater or lesser degree the problem has been handled, shifted, priced out or repressed in some places. England continues to hold a place at the high table of the model but the collateral effect of some measures shows that it may be an untenable option in countries such as Argentina.

A wonderful dialogue quoted previously in this blog:

Margaret Thatcher – What are you doing to keep our society free from your hooligans?

Bert Millichip – What are YOU doing to keep your hooligans out of our football?

goes to the heart of the issue which needs to be addressed in Argentina. We are all responsible, the media as well. Football violence has been glamorised, celebrated, displayed and judged – but not stopped. In the conundrum "Is it football? Is it society?" everyone has an excuse to distance themselves. As ever, Eduardo Galeano best summed it up when he wrote: "As a sport football is not condemned to generate violence even though violence sometimes uses it as an escape valve. The power system, on the other hand, is a violent factor … its injustices and humiliations poison the soul of the people, its values reward those without scruples and its traditional impunity stimulates crime and helps perpetuate it as a national custom."

Football reflects society. This does not mean what happens in football is above the laws and values of society. We should all, as citizens and fans, see it as our problem. The death of one man affects us all.